Nothing At All
by vicvic221
Summary: Despite all of the threats Tony Stark has seen and defended the Earth from, he once again finds himself facing conflict, but this time on a more personal level. Betrayed by business partners and rendered financially incompetent by an economic disaster, Tony begrudgingly accepts help from a former enemy in order to prevent a war that may destroy everything he's known.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

**One**

Rain fell against the glass of his bedroom's windows, lashing angrily as the wind gusted, and occasionally white flashes illuminated the New York skyline for a few moments, allowing Tony to see the city beyond the glass, the storm that was raging, and he felt oddly small as he sat in bed watching it unfold. It was one of the worst downpours in weeks and Tony found himself wondering if Thor had a hand in the tempest.

Tony chuckled to himself at the idea of Thor and then rolled over in bed, turning his back on the window and the thunderstorm. Thor was probably out in New Mexico with Jane still, he hadn't seen her in a while and Steve had egged him to go out and 'find his love again.' If Tony had felt up to it, he'd have probably ridden Steve for days about his romantic ideas, but he was still feeling little else than contempt for the idea of stable relationships and love in general which impeded upon any jokes he could have made at Steve's expense.

He'd withdrawn into Stark Tower since splitting with Pepper and had only left to tend to business outside of Stark Industries. She was still getting her things together from the house in Malibu and he had no desire to intrude upon her while she was packing box after box and deciding which mutual purchases would stay or go.

"Jarvis," he said out loud, growing tired of the weather outside, "pull the curtains across for me would you? And turn on some music, I can't sleep with all of this thunder."

"Sir, what would you care for?" Jarvis replied as the long curtains slowly began to pull themselves across the windows of Tony's bedroom.

"Surprise me," Tony rolled over in bed, pulling one of his pillows in close to himself and snuggled with it. He closed his eyes as Jarvis began to play a song he didn't recognize at first, ignoring the strange tune and foreign notes of the piano. It was probably Pepper's music and if there was one thing Tony had withheld from Pepper during their relationship and subsequent break up it was that she had the worst taste in music imaginable. He really had to get Jarvis to delete it from the system.

He opened one eye as the piano gave way to a voice that Tony had never been able to tolerate, even in bed.

"Really, Jarvis?" he scoffed, "Barry Manilow?"

"Sir, I do not believe AC/DC is what they refer to as 'easy listening' however my search has shown me that Mr. Manilow is very well-reputed; Ms. Potts had several albums in her library."

"Well-reputed my ass," Tony shot back, sitting up in bed, "shut this crap off and find something that doesn't belong in a Nicholas Sparks novel, would you?" He pushed his covers away, crawling from bed, and began to search his dark room for clothes, a robe, anything to cover up with. "And while you're at it, delete Pepper's music library. She's the only one who listens to Barry Manilow and she's not coming back here."

"Sir -"

"Jarvis," Tony warned as he pulled on a pair of jeans, "don't fight me on this one and get rid of Liza Minnelli, too. We're not going to be having any more of that."

"Yes, sir," Jarvis agreed.

"While you're doing that I'm going to make myself some coffee," Tony told the AI system as he left his bedroom. He padded out of his room, running a hand through his mussed hair as he pulled the door shut behind himself and slowly began to make his way down the hall towards the kitchen. If he wasn't going to be sleeping - and it didn't appear that he'd be sleeping any time soon with the heavens cracking wide open above the Tower - he could at least do work.

Tony sighed as he rounded the corner and walked towards the kitchen. Coffee was not nearly half as tempting as alcohol, but showing up to a meeting at nine in the morning with a buzz was hardly responsible of him... Tony smirked at the idea, eyeing the bar over his shoulder as he began to prepare a fresh pot of coffee, he had never been one for being entirely responsible had he?

"Sir, I've completed the deletion of Ms. Pott's musical library from your system."

"Good going," Tony said, nodding, he replaced the coffee can's lid and flicked the power on, then turned around, leaning against the counter. He stood in silence, zoning out as Jarvis prattled on about something inconsequential like the weather forecast, at least he thought he heard 'rain' and 'thunder' in there somewhere, but it really didn't matter to Tony. It would probably rain all day tomorrow, which meant he wouldn't be able to test his latest modifications to the suit if only because he worried that it might not take kindly to being hit by a bolt of lightning.

He sighed, rubbing his face and then crossed to the cupboard that held his coffee mugs, pulling out the largest one he could find. Pepper had taken most of the large ones with her when she'd left, which was fine since most of them were hers but it had left Tony to toting the mug back and forth more frequently than before which really wasn't fine.

Tony returned to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup of coffee and then replaced the pot on the burner, walking towards the large file that he had left on the coffee table. He was supposed to sign papers and bring them into the office the next day, submit them for some kind of further approval. Pepper had insisted that he sign them himself and refused to forge his signature even though he had all but begged, he'd even offered her the tea table she had left behind and five extra vacation days.

She'd refused.

There was another loud clap of thunder outside and Tony sighed, pulling the stack of papers towards himself.

"What's the time, Jarvis?"

"Half past three, sir," Jarvis replied before going silent once again. He'd put on Mozart, which was at least more tolerable than Barry Manilow of all things.

Tony nodded, beginning to read through the documents as he sipped his coffee, signing and initialing what he liked, throwing the rest to the floor. He could use it for target practice in the workshop.

Weapons..._no_.

Energy..._yes_.

He signed it with a flourish.

Bombs..._no_.

Suit technology for combat soldiers..._hell no_.

When would they ever learn? He wondered, frowning as he read over the document, half amused and half disgusted. It was almost as if Hammer hadn't already proven that making drones available to the military and average citizen was a piss poor idea.

"Well, that's a big no," he muttered, flinging it across the living room. It fell to the floor just as a loud crash came from outside. Tony looked up from the document about some charity for children that he had been busy signing, surprised, and slowly set down the papers he was holding on the coffee table. He got to his feet, heading towards the glass door that led to the terrace and landing strip, "Jarvis, is everything okay out there?"

"One moment, sir, checking the security systems."

"Don't worry about it, I'll do it myself," Tony said as he reached the door. He pushed it open manually, rain immediately slapping him in the face and soaking his bare chest as he stepped out into the cold night. Across the way a body had crumpled down onto the hard strip and still lay limp, rain cascading down upon it.

"Jarvis," Tony called over his shoulder as he neared the body, "Jarvis!" he called again, a little louder this time, "Get Nick Fury on the line!"

"Whatever for, sir? Mr. Fury is not one that you usually wish to ring, especially at this hour. Would you not prefer a woman?"

"Don't get cute with me," Tony shot back as he came to a stop a stone's throw from the body. He watched as the man slowly rolled over, groaning, and he chuckled softly, darkly, unsure if he should feel proud at learning he was right.

"And what shall I tell Director Fury?"

Tony smirked, "Tell him that Loki Laufeyson just dropped out of the sky and landed on my doorstep."

* * *

"Stark," Loki's voice was little more than a rasp and Tony slowly set down his papers, watching as the raven haired god rolled onto his back, clutching at his side, his face contorted with pain.

"That would be my name, yes," Tony replied, frowning deeply. He stretched his legs out in front of himself, studying the god as he lay on the floor, clearly wracked with pain. "Not hurting too much are you, buddy?"

"I am not your friend, Stark," Loki snarled, gritting his teeth.

"Well then," Tony leaned forward, picking his papers back up, "never mind." He slowly placed his feet on the coffee table, leaning forward to pick up his mug of coffee. It had gone cold while he'd dragged Loki into the penthouse and he, too, was feeling a little chilly from having trudged through the pouring rain with Loki clinging to him. He'd brought one of the suits gloves out and it laid beside him on the couch, waiting for Tony to slip his hand inside at a moment's notice to fire a single shot at Loki.

"Stark," Loki rasped again, "come here."

"No thanks," Tony shook his head, "Uncle Nicky will be here for you in the morning, Loki. You've been a very bad boy and he wants to get his hands on you."

"Your attempts at jest are pitiful," Loki muttered, opening his eyes slowly to stare at Tony. "Come here and help me remove my armor."

"I'll pass on that one, maybe next time." Loki made a noise in his throat and Tony looked up curiously, watching as the demi-god struggled to sit upright.

"Sir?" Jarvis tried.

"Yeah, Jarvis?" Tony asked, watching as Loki looked around for the source of the voice curiously, his eyes narrowing before his face clouded over with pain once again.

"Sir, surely you realize that Director Fury would rather he be restrained."

"And that's exactly why I'm not going to," Tony explained, smirking when Loki shot him a murderous glare.

"Loki Laufeyson is within the Top 5 Most Wanted criminals in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, sir," Jarvis reminded him. "Perhaps it would be prudent to do as Director Fury instructed."

"And perhaps that would take all the fun out of this?" Tony suggested. "Come on, Loki, can't a big boy like you take his own clothes off?" he taunted, watching as Loki struggled to shrug off the long black duster.

Loki sneered at him, "I did not come to your home to be mocked, Stark, nor did I come here to be apprehended by Fury and his brigade."

"You could've fooled me."

"Stark, please," Loki motioned to his duster and Tony set down his papers slowly, gradually getting to his feet. He walked over, stopping a few feet away from Loki observing the scene in silence. The god of mischief was pale, his arm shook ever so slightly as he held it aloft, and he looked deathly ill. His face was gaunt, the skin drawn tight across his sunken cheekbones leaving him skeletal, his eyes were hollow, ringed with dark circles and bloodshot, and his lips were cracked and dry. His long black hair was now longer than ever and hung around his face, damp, knotted, and the contrast only amplified how pale Loki appeared.

Tony dropped his gaze to Loki's torso, noting for the first time that there was the glint of blood on his armor and he stepped forward, slowly kneeling down to pull Loki's duster away. Loki let out a soft hiss of air as Tony did so, but then fell silent once again, waiting on him to continue.

Tony flung the duster aside before he waved at the wound on Loki's side.

"That doesn't look too good," he poked it curiously and Loki let out an angry growl, "it also doesn't feel so good. What'd you do?"

Loki was quiet for a few moments while Tony undid the fastenings of his armor, pulling it away gently. He glanced up at Loki as he came to the thin, blood soaked tunic that had been hidden beneath the breast plate.

"It's nothing more than a scratch, Stark, your concern, while amusing, is unnecessary."

"I'm not too concerned about you, Loki," Tony replied, he gestured to the rug that Loki had been laying upon, "I'm more concerned about you staining the carpet, it's not that easy to get blood out of Persian rug."

Loki snorted, then began to stagger to his feet. Tony backed away quickly, watching Loki with narrowed eyes as he slowly began to move around the penthouse, looking at it with just the slightest hint of amusement. He slowly approached the bar, one hand gripping the marble tightly as he eased himself down on one of the stools, looking at the alcohol curiously.

"You never did allow me that drink, Stark."

Tony was silent, half wondering if he should retrieve the suit's glove from the sofa as a precaution.

Loki reached out, picking up a bottle of bourbon from the bar and slowly began to twist the cap from it. He looked over his shoulder at Tony as he tossed the cap aside, arching an eyebrow.

"Not interested in joining me, Stark? Poor manners on your part to refuse sharing a drink with a guest, is it not?"

"As much as I'd like to, Loki, I'm afraid that that would be fraternizing with the enemy," Tony watched as the god took a long drink from the bottle, his fingers wrapped tightly around the base of the bottle as he tilted his head back, "Looks like you're doing a good enough job for us both anyway."

"It dulls the pain," Loki snapped over his shoulder as he set the bottle back down.

"I thought it was just a scratch?" Tony said flatly.

Loki didn't reply, instead he merely took another long drink of the bourbon before he set down the bottle and pushed it away. Tony remained still, wondering just what kind of game Loki was playing. The last time the little bastard had shown up he'd wrecked the place, wrecked half of New York City really, and then been carted off to Asgard by Thor himself for a very long timeout.

Picking his coffee cup up, Tony slowly approached the bar and could feel Loki's eyes as he lifted his head slightly, staring at the arc reactor in the center of his chest. He frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing at the sight and Tony continued towards the coffee pot, deciding it wasn't in his best interest to stay by Loki when he had that look on his face.

"How does it work?" Loki asked curiously.

Tony turned, feigning ignorance, and arched an eyebrow, "How does what work?" he stepped to the side, gesturing the Keurig coffee pot, "This?"

Loki made a face at him and took another drink of the bourbon before he responded, "Don't pretend to be a fool, Stark, it's rather unbecoming."

He snorted, returning to the coffee pot, and began to prepare himself another cup. Loki talking about what was and wasn't becoming? How rich, if only Steve could hear this; he would probably be thrilled to hear someone else lecture Tony on his etiquette, regardless of it being one of his most formidable enemies.

"The arc reactor harnesses the power of a chemical compound that creates a magnetic pull and subsequently keeps my ticker going." Tony turned around, deciding it was fruitless to keep ignoring the question. It was better to keep Loki satisfied and at bay than to grapple with him desperately.

Loki's eyebrows went up again as he took yet another drink, questioning the vernacular, and Tony sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. He hadn't wanted to answer this, in fact he didn't really want to get into this with anyone, they weren't fond memories. He still woke in cold sweats on some nights, shaking, from nightmares where he was yet again trapped in his Middle Eastern prison cell.

"I was detained by a group of terrorists who bombed a humvee that I was riding in," Tony began, hedging around the details so as to keep Loki from learning too much, "when the bomb went off, shrapnel hit me in the chest and lodged itself in my heart. One of their other prisoners was a physicist who managed to build a prototype there and he kept me alive."

Loki was silent for a few moments, his eyes locked on the arc reactor, and when he spoke his voice was hushed, almost awed, "If I were to remove it, you would die?"

Tony grimaced, turning away to the coffee pot, "Yeah, but I doubt you'd ever get the chance. I have no qualms about putting you through a wall after your last visit." To his surprise, Loki chuckled from behind him and he heard the bourbon swish in the bottle once again before it clinked against the countertop. "You don't want to be drunk for Fury, do you?"

"There is far more potent alcohol on Asgard than this," Loki replied, before changing the subject back to Tony once more. "You truly are a man of iron then?" Tony turned just enough to see Loki over his shoulder and found that the god looked upon him with a curious expression, much the way he imagined a predator with a piece of prey in its sights.

"I am Iron Man," Tony flashed the god a smile and then poured himself a cup of coffee, the smile vanishing. The bastard wasn't even trying and yet he was managing to unsettle Tony.

"I suppose," Loki mused from behind him, "it's most interesting to see a man run as a machine might, you must forgive my curiosity." Somehow, Tony doubted that he would be forgiving much of anything as per Loki's request, he was probably doing all of this just to get a rise out of Tony.

"So why the visit to Earth?" Tony asked, turning and cutting Loki off before the raven haired god could continue.

He watched as the other lifted his chin slightly, his lips pursed, and then shrugged simply, "I have business to attend to here."

"Your idea of business usually doesn't end very well for us, you know," Tony remarked casually, "we have very different ideas of business."

Loki chuckled once more and then took a long dredge from the bourbon bottle, when he was satisfied he set the bottle down, pushing it away, and then glanced at the clock that hung above the refrigerator. Tony followed his gaze, noting that it was nearly six by now, and then returned to Loki, frowning at him.

"Stark, I'm afraid that I won't be able to stay much longer," Loki pulled himself up, standing, and wobbled precariously for a moment before he took in a deep breath and steadied himself. "You'll give Fury my regards, I trust."

Tony followed the god out into the living room once again, his brow furrowing, "You still haven't told me just what you want."

Loki looked over his shoulder at Tony, shrugging, and then leaned down, beginning to pick up the pieces of his armor. "I shouldn't wish to bore you, Stark, nor do I wish to scare you. But I must warn you," he clasped one of the vambraces around his arm, then straightened it and looked back at Tony, "there is threat of war returning."

Tony stared, his eyebrows going up now, "Right," he nodded, unable to help the sarcasm in his voice. "So tell me again why I should believe you when you brought the treat of war last time?"

Loki smiled, "I had expected you might not believe me so easily." He clasped the other vambrace around his opposite forearm and flexed his arm once, ensuring that the leather was set comfortably on his body. "Stark, I have not killed you and as much as I would enjoy the thought, I came with an intended purpose to warn your people of an impending threat. What, I cannot say, however I trust that it will effect you as well as numerous others when it does in fact strike."

Tony walked forward, coming within a few feet of Loki before he stopped, "And what will you be doing in the meantime? Is this your Plan B?"

The god shrugged, almost as if he were amused by the idea, and picked up his chest plate which he hoisted above his head before settling it upon his shoulders once more. He grimaced for a moment, the act clearly stressing the wound on his side, but then looked at Tony, his eyes locking on Tony's own, "I will be near if you require my assistance."

Tony snorted, "Do I whistle for you or do Asgardians not take kindly to that? Your brother never really said."

"Thor is an idiot," Loki snapped dismissively, "I do not think you understand that what I am telling you is of grave importance not only to the ultimate survival of your planet, but also to you, yourself."

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm being too hard on you. I should totally forget that you threw me out a window, tried to kill me, and destroyed my home and my city with your army of scaly little bad guys."

Loki shot Tony a warning look, clearly beginning to lose his patience. "Stark, your advisors may have a different agenda than you these days." To Tony's surprise, Loki cast his gaze towards the proposal that he had flung across the room earlier in the night. It still lay in a crumpled mess on the floor, unmoved from where it had fallen, and Tony slowly looked between it and Loki.

"They're idiots, too," Tony told him flatly, beginning to tire of Loki's games. If he wanted to be coy, Tony could be coy.

Loki only smirked, as if the words amused him more than anything else, "Heed my warnings." He picked up his duster, slowly shrugging it on. "Your advisors do have the utmost intention of carrying out their plans with your battery," he remarked, pointing towards Tony's chest, "or heart, if you prefer?" Loki lifted his gaze to meet Tony's, his eyes mocking.

"You're not leaving," Tony said, shaking his head, ignoring the sting of the words. If there was one thing he had to give Loki, it was that the prick knew exactly how to get under his skin with the littlest of digs.

"I should like to see you or your Jarvis stop me," Loki muttered, brushing past Tony. "If you attempt to, I will put you out the window once more and I will not make any moves to save you, Stark, which will only make the lives of your advisors all the easier. If your computer attempts to stop me," he stopped, turning to look at Tony who had followed closely, "I will magically dismantle it to a point beyond repair. I promise you that you will live to regret even considering such an action."

Tony remained silent, grinding his teeth together, and watched as Loki turned and began to make his way out of the apartment. Following, he stopped short of the same place on the rooftop that Loki had laid merely a few hours beforehand, "Why should I believe you?" he asked Loki as the god came to a halt towards the end of the roof.

Loki turned, smiling slyly at Tony, the first light of morning caught his face as he turned towards the east and he spoke, his voice raised to overcome the wind that whipped around them, "The technology they wish to use is that of your father's. It is the same technology that powers your arc reactor, I trust, and I am confident that you don't wish to have your father's memory tarnished by his last bit of technology taking lives rather than saving one."

And before Tony could even begin to formulate a clever response, to shoot down the assumption, Loki had vanished. Once again, the god of mischief had evaded capture and was lost to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers Initiative.

Tony stared at the spot for a few moments, wondering if there was any weight to what the god had been saying and then took a slow sip of his coffee, angling himself so as to simply watch the sun begin to peak over the eastern horizon. He stood like this for a good while, unthinking, until he could feel the warmth of the orange sun against his face and Jarvis's voice broke the morning silence.

"Sir?" he turned just enough to signal to the computer that he was listening and Jarvis continued on, "Director Fury has arrived."

Well, damn.

* * *

_Just for the record, I don't know if I want to continue this or not. I'll leave that up to you based upon the feedback I get regarding this; I'm just iffy on the plot thread in my head. If I do keep up with it, it'll be just as infrequent as "Fire and Rain" in being updated if not more so due to my university schedule being demanding and taking precedence. But this has been sitting in my head for some time (months, really) and I do enjoy occasionally writing the slightly more frostiron-esque story for my own amusement; I simply didn't think I was being fair in keeping you in the dark on everything I've been writing lately and like I said - I have some surprises up my sleeve to share!_

_Anyway, thank you for reading and please read and review! I'd absolutely adore it if you would._


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